Blaze of Glory

Masquerade

Dean sat back down in his chair, taking in deep breaths. He was sure his face was red. He was sure everyone could see just how flustered he was, just how much that kiss had gotten to him. Because for a guy who didn't understand social things as basic as personal space and Star Wars, damn was Castiel a good kisser. Of course, he was also in a room with God, the Devil, God's sister, and two other archangels, so the last thing Dean should have been concerned about was how good Castiel's mouth felt. But then again, Dean had always had sort of messed up priorities. 

Of course, when Amara first asked her question to Castiel, Dean was too flustered to actually hear the words. It was the second time around when she asked that he caught on to what she was saying. 

"Come now, Castiel. Tell me how that kiss made you feel," she repeated. 

"This is ridiculous, sister," Chuck snapped. 

"Did I ask you, Brother?" Amara sneered. "I was talking to my nephew. Castiel?" Dean's heartfelt a bit like it was going to stop, and his brain was uncertain of what it wanted. Did he want Castiel to say that he had enjoyed the kiss? Of course, to some level he did. He wanted to know if Castiel felt the same way he did and if they shared the feelings that Dean was struggling with. But then again, wouldn't knowing just ruin everything? What could they do? It wasn't like there was a chance at any relationship. The thought would have made Dean laugh if it didn't hurt so goddamn much. He would kill for a chance to be normal. Normal house, normal job, normal boyfriend. Well, even if Castiel wasn't so normal, it wouldn't matter. He'd kill for just a shot at happiness and a little bit of normal. 

Because right now, he was sitting in a room with God, God's sister, three out of the four archangels, his younger brother from the future, the king of hell, and an angel he may or may not be in love with. There was nothing normal about that. Not a single goddamn thing. 

"I enjoyed the kiss. Perhaps more than I should have, considering that Dean Winchester surely did not. Nonetheless, I have feelings for Dean, and I'm sure that was shown in my engagement with his mouth," Castiel finally said. Dean would have laughed at Castiel's word usage if the meaning of the words didn't have him so goddamn speechless. 

"Oh, Castiel, you make me laugh," Amara mused. "But, I think that brings us to the end of our little game. And considering you all played so fairly..." she started. 

"Not so fast, sister," Chuck said sharply. Dean had been so fuzzy over Castiel's words that he hadn't noticed Chuck moving. He surely didn't notice Chuck shooting a bolt of light straight at Amara. When he had gotten back his ability to move was beyond Dean, but it didn't matter. They all knew that as soon as that light touched Amara, their entire plan would be ruined. 

Except it didn't hit Amara. 

At the last second, something moved between the killing light and the celestial being, the smell of burnt flesh suddenly filling the room as something hit the ground harshly. 

It took a long second for anyone to move, and then suddenly Chuck's eyes filled with horror as he saw what he had done. 

"Mica?" Lucifer asked as he rushed to the fallen archangel's side, hands automatically over the wounds on Michael's chest. Michael's eyes were shut in pain, and Dean moved quickly to Michael's other side in hopes that he could do something to help. As soon as he got there, however, he realized that his hopes were in vain. There was nothing he could do, or that Lucifer or Gabriel or anyone else could do to heal the burn wounds across his chest. Even now, the archangel's eyes continued to open and then drift closed, open and then shut again, as if the pain was far too great for him to bear for too long without passing out. Dean hoped that wasn't his reasoning. "Hey, hey, don't you dare die on me," Lucifer mumbled, running his fingers through Michael's hair. "You hear me, Mica? You can't die on me yet," Lucifer continued. His gaze shot up as Dean watched, blue eyes glowing with anger as he turned to look at Chuck. The man (god? Celestial being?) was standing still now, staring at Michael on the floor.